Trillia
by sterling5842
Summary: The author indulges in the glories of springtime. Qui-Gon exults. Obi-Wan endures. Then something changes. A brief scene.


**Trillia**

* * *

Obi-Wan did not grumble as he stopped short _again_ to avoid running into his mentor who had stooped over to examine something just off the trail. He did not grumble because it was beneath his dignity as a padawan to do so, and because Qui-Gon had reminded him of this not a quarter-standard prior. The fact that the master had been gleefully amused at Obi-Wan's slight pique made the apprentice all the more determined to grit his teeth and bear it just to deprive the elder Jedi of further satisfaction.

"A comet-tail," Qui-Gon's delighted voice carried back to Obi-Wan. "See, Padawan," Qui-Gon looked back at him and motioned to the trailside blossom he'd been examining. "The petals are whipped back from the pointed yellow stamens so it gives the appearance of a comet racing across the night sky." Upon seeing Obi-Wan's lack of visible excitement, Qui-Gon admitted a bit ruefully, "Well, I suppose it used to fire my imagination when I was not yet as experienced a starfarer as you are now."

"It is colorful, Master," Obi-Wan allowed. He respected and loved the older man, but a wildflower observation trip was _not_ Obi-Wan's brilliant idea about how to spend the precious few days of leave afforded to the Jedi team. No, Obi-Wan had been looking forward to spending some time in the Temple catching up with friends, studying, and sparring. Instead he was with Qui-Gon on Tierelle Minor taking in the sights of the peak wildflower blooms.

Of course such great natural beauty must not be marred by modern impositions such as hostels or lodges. Of course not. Deprivations while on assignment were one thing, but on leave? Well, he was trying—Jedi do not try—to find the same appreciation for the experience Qui-Gon did.

"Now, this, Obi-Wan, is a bit more unique." Qui-Gon gestured towards a patch of soft fronds punctuated by floral spikes. Upon closer inspection, each stem dangled a line of flowers along its length and each bloom looked a bit like… "Lanniks' breeches. That's the common name. Each flower is said to look like a pair of diminutive breeches that has been hung upside down from a line to dry after washing day."

"Lanniks' breeches?"

"Yes, Padawan. They are quite striking, aren't they?"

"Um, yes. Master, are we now to be plagued with hordes of miniaturized Lannik warriors marauding about the forest sans breeches since we've interrupted their whimsical laundry day? My innocent eyes may not survive the spectacle," declared the young Jedi with dancing eyes that suggested rather a dearth of native innocence being held in reserve and susceptible to corruption.

"Hmph. Careful, young one, you may not survive my recounting of this conversation to Master Piell," the young man's master heartlessly responded. Not to be so easily deterred, Master Qui-Gon directed Obi-Wan's attention to another specimen.

"Ah, here we have quirr'l maize. See it looks rather like Lanniks' breeches, but the flowers curl a bit inward at the tips rather than pointing out like being pinned to a line for drying. Also, this flower is really named for the distinctive appearance of the root which looks just like a kernel of maize carefully buried by a prudent quirr'l in preparation for a long winter."

Qui-Gon shot a sidelong glance at his young friend. "I followed the wise example of the quirr'l and augmented my food stores before I took you in also, you know. It is a good thing I did or I might not have weathered the long years with the additional strain on my resources." The master adopted a satisfied smirk which only grew more pronounced when his young companion lapsed into a disgruntled silence.

Qui-Gon, with the ruthless instincts honed by long years of intensive combat experience, did not hesitate to capitalize on this precious opening. Such silence was a vital chink in the young man's usual fortifications of unceasing eloquence through which Qui-Gon might shoot the arrows of his extensive botanical knowledge. His quiver was full of useful and delightful information about the young, green growing things about them, and he was determined to deploy that arsenal for the edification of the young, human growing thing consigned to accompany him through a burdensome vow of obedience.

"Here, Obi-Wan. This is called bloodroot. See the many petaled white flower? At the right time, you may come upon a carpet of these blossoms upon the forest floor.

"Oh, over there is another treasure. That is the MonCal lillith. See its leaves are a bit mottled like the skins of some members of the Mon Calamari peoples."

The young Jedi raised a dubious brow. "Bant would be flattered."

"She should be. Do you not find the elegant blossoms pleasing the way the yellow petals curve delicately away from the attractive red anthers at the flower's center?"

Qui-Gon continued a bit disgruntled at the noncommittal response he received. "Well, they have another name if that one so offends your sensibilities. The species is also known as akk-tooth violetha."

"Are the anthers meant to represent bloodied akk teeth?"

Qui-Gon released a sigh expressive of _just_ contained annoyance. Long experience allowed him to answer with a steady tone though. "No, Obi-Wan. The root is said to resemble the shape of an akk tooth."

"The root?" Obi-Wan questioned flatly. "Master, it is convenient that so many wildflowers are named after the characteristics of their root systems. That way when you unearth them to make a positive identification, you needn't worry if you can't identify them since they're dead anyway."

"Hmmm." Qui-Gon arched an unimpressed eyebrow but he could not entirely conceal the undertone of amusement in his exasperated sigh. "You are a practical man, Obi-Wan."

"Thank you, Master. I honor your example."

Qui-Gon chose to hold his peace. The spice of last autumn's leaf cover rose faintly to their nostrils as their strides disturbed the trail bed. The scent of new growth and recent rain rounded out the bouquet. Love-struck ribbels croaked lustily in a nearby creek. Sunlight and a sweet breeze chased each other through the bare branches of the trees and bestowed caresses on the Jedi as well.

Qui-Gon breathed deeply and felt his mood soar.

Obi-Wan tugged his tabards straight and mentally calculated the hiking time back to their ship and coveted amenities: freshers, sonics, dinner he had not been obliged to kill and char over an open fire before consuming...

"Here, Padawan. This one is not named after its root system." Qui-Gon was at it again. Obi-Wan supposed attending to the nature talk would pass the time and also conveniently help his master fulfill an unrealized dream to be a nature interpreter.

"See," Qui-Gon blithely continued, "it resembles a senatorial pod with a figure standing erect within ready to deliver a speech. It's known as Jack-in-the-pod."

"Ah, I thought I detected a foul odor. I assumed that explained the etymology of that particular specimen. Nothing so puts me in mind of the Senate as a putrid stench."

"Padawan, that _aroma_ is not floral in origin."

"Hmmm? Oh. Yes. Well, if I you want sweet smells on this Force-forsaken trip, you _will_ have to rely on botanical sources. Perhaps you can weave blossoms in your hair and festoon yourself with garlands as they do during the Fertility Observation on Freuntius II. I cannot smell other than I do since I have been cruelly deprived of civilized facilities. I'm considering making a formal Council complaint for padawan neglect, you know."

"In that case, I'll be sure to make it worth your while," Qui-Gon threatened meaningfully. "It is just as well we are met now with this next wildflower rather than the blue-eyed lass for whom it's named. Blue-eyed Miri might not find the charms she can see with her bright eyes quite as enticing once the wind blows the wrong way off of you…Padawan, are you all right? You've gone rather flushed all of a sudden. Sputtering like that won't make you any more alluring to the mythical Miri, you know."

The padawan recovered slightly. "Cough. Did you say Miri with an 'M'? I thought you said…well, never mind. Um, what's that next one?"

"Ah, that, my padawan, is the trillia." Qui-Gon's voice lost its jesting edge and grew soft. His grey eyes regarded his apprentice with a gentle light. Obi-Wan, ever perceptive, immediately recognized the shift in his teacher's mood and grew attentive.

For a few moments, Qui-Gon simply paused lost in thought as he regarded the flower. Then he motioned for Obi-Wan to take a seat next to him on a nearby fallen log. It was testimony to the reverent tone of the moment that Obi-Wan made only a slight grimacing expression at the thought of the further damage sitting on the moss-covered log would inflict on his leggings. He indulged in a brief cheery thought that he could always follow the example taught by the Lanniks' breeches flower when dealing with his filthy uniform.

Qui-Gon shared an amused glance with him that indicated the image had translated across the bond. The master was content to dwell in companionable silence for a time though.

The log they rested upon was decaying on one end. It was there, in the midst of the decomposing matter that the trillia sprouted. What had once been solid log was now a tumble of sienna and umber slabs cloaked with green mosses and lichens. Around the base of the flower, the stately structure of life past broke down to a rich soil to nurture the new verdancy. A single sturdy stem rose from the earth to support a whorl of three broad, heart-shaped leaves. From the leaves rose a single flower, also three-petaled, of the purest white.

"As I told you, I first came here as a boy, a young padawan," Qui-Gon began. "Since, I have returned many times. When I come here I trod the same paths I have trodden before, but they are not the same, and nor am I. Though I travel in the steps of those who have stepped these trails before, they are with me now and yet they are not."

"Through the cycles, the architecture of the living Force evolves. I am laborer, edifice," here Qui-Gon stirred the ground with a small twig, "and compost." He glanced humorously at his protégé.

"The Jedi assign a special symbolism to the trillia, you know." Now Qui-Gon employed the twig as pointer indicating each individual petal. "The Jedi seeker, the vows, the path of service..." A sweeping gesture indicated the entire blossom, "The Force."

Teacher and student locked eyes, and the elder Jedi warmly clasped the younger's shoulder and squeezed fondly. The Living Force would construct a mighty monument from the young Jedi's dedication, strong and steady like the strongest oaka tree but yet capable of frolicking in the Light like the tree's dancing uppermost limbs. When the time came for Life's wheel to turn, though the unique edifice constructed by Obi-Wan might crumble, new growth would be orchestrated by the Living Force and flourish from the organic rubble.

The wind sang, the Light shone, the Jedi rested in the moment, and everywhere young things grew.

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_Bonus points to those who recognize the lightly disguised spring wildflowers and can feign as much fondness for them as I possess. :)_


End file.
